


a little death, as a treat

by Mersheeple



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Smut, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:13:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29842710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mersheeple/pseuds/Mersheeple
Summary: Severus Snape hated Hogsmeade weekends. It wasn't the youngest years who caused problems. It wasn't the oldest students who couldn't focus on his classes on the Friday. It was her. Former student, now Professor of Ancient Runes...Miss Hermione Granger, the constantly, annoyingly PERKY companion he was...saddled with...
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 17
Kudos: 134





	a little death, as a treat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LunaP999](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaP999/gifts).



> Happy Birthday to one of my favourite people in the whole world! Luna, I love you. I promise a distinct lack of sad for this story...and, because it is for you, it has to include smut...which it does. <3
> 
> I hope your birthday is as wonderful as you are (though that is pretty much impossible) so, instead, I hope your birthday is lovely and you get very very spoiled.

Severus Snape hated Hogsmeade weekends. The younger years complained and whined and tried to find ways to leave the castle. After the War, Harry Potter had handed his father’s map directly to the Headmistress and told her he now understood what a terrifying thing it was, allowing for stalking and damaging of students’ mental health. The Headmistress had immediately sealed up all the hidden tunnels that had not already been sealed by the damage of War. She had then stared at the map as it had shown her the new tunnels that Hogwarts was creating. It had been Severus’s comment that the castle was ensuring that students could escape that had made Minerva realise that the new tunnels, of which there were just five, were placed by each of the common rooms, with an extra tunnel that led directly from the Great Hall. These were not just about sneaking out of the castle; these were about escaping and being safe. Minerva allowed it, on the condition that each of the tunnels would have a password and an alarm, for the safety of the students and the rest of the castle inhabitants. 

But it wasn’t truly the younger students Severus hated. The older students, those allowed to travel to Hogsmeade, were completely useless on the Friday before. Of course, most students were dunderheads anyway, but they were worse than usual on Fridays before a Hogsmeade weekend. He would nearly always have to give detentions on Fridays. He would catch them discussing Zonko’s, or post-War, Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, or who was taking who to Madam Puddifoot’s and would hand out detentions, threatening the class with a Saturday detention if they didn’t focus. He had never yet had to give a Saturday detention, not since he had started threatening them and he was actually quite thankful for it.

But it wasn’t even the lack of discipline in the older students that he hated. No, it was her. The former student, now Professor of Ancient Runes, one Hermione Granger. She was always so…perky. She would chatter at him until he was ready to snap. It drove him mad. And then, when he was ready to yell at her, she would tuck her arm through his and render him speechless as she guided him to wherever she wanted to go. He found it infuriating. He found it improper. He found it arousing.

No. Not that. Never that last one. Annoying, that was what he had meant to think. He found it annoying. That was why today, when she had tried to drag him into the Three Broomsticks, he had snapped at her and stormed off, telling her he was not the one that required a chaperone. And so he stood, staring at the one place he hated more than any other. The Shrieking Shack.

“I’ve heard it’s the most haunted place in Britain.” Her voice, soft and tinged with something he didn’t really recognise, broke his silent contemplation. He grunted, hoping it would dissuade her from any conversation but he guessed, as usual, he would not be so lucky.

“They say…they say sometimes you can still hear the screams of those who haunt it.” Poppycock. He knew it was utter rubbish. If anyone was going to be able to hear the screams, it was him.

“Let’s go closer, Severus, see if we can hear them screaming.” She grabbed his arm and, before he had a moment to think, apparated them closer to the shack. He stood, rooted to the spot, and glared down at her.

“Tell me about it, Severus. Tell me about the Shrieking Shack. The truth, not the fairy story.” She looked at him, her eyes pleading and he knew he would have to answer her, as much as he hated the idea.

“I have almost died there. Twice.” He spoke quietly, his voice rasping slightly through the still tender scar tissue on his neck. She took his hand again and squeezed it lightly, proving she was with him, no matter what. He took a breath, nodded at her slightly and began.

“The first time was when I was just a boy. I knew there was something strange about the boys who followed me around. I knew they had a secret. I…I wanted to hold the secret over their head, use it as blackmail to stop them from bullying me. I overheard Black and Potter talking about the Whomping Willow and…well, I know now it was a set up. I went down to the Willow that night, the night of a full moon…I was halfway through the tunnel before I realised something was wrong. It smelled like…copper and dust and sweat…and then…and then I smelled something else, like…burned toffee and wet dog. I turned away and saw…I don’t know what I saw. It was something black and cloaked at the corner of my eye but it was gone when I looked back. And then I heard…oh I don’t bloody know. I heard something speaking French and then James Potter dragged me out of the tunnel and told me that there was a werewolf in there…and I don’t remember much after that.” Severus glanced down at where she was holding his hand, her thumb running across his knuckles and he took a slow breath in before he winked at her and apparated them closer to the Shrieking Shack. She squeaked as they arrived at their destination and he smirked at her slightly, tugging her closer to him.

“The second time…the second time you were there. You saw what happened. Why do you need to hear it from me?” He looked down at her, noticing her flushed cheeks and the fact that she was pushed up against him so nicely. He raised an eyebrow and she blinked at him, answering softly.

“I saw what happened when you were attacked. I saw what happened when I came back. I didn’t see the bit in between. Please?” Her voice was sweet, kind, and held something that sounded impossible to him. Affection maybe? Friendship? More? He wasn’t entirely sure what it was…but it was something different. He watched her, waiting, wondering if maybe she really did want to know and this wasn’t all some weird way of making him uncomfortable. He took a breath and nodded.

“The whole world smelled strange again, like copper and dust and sweat and burned toffee and I saw…well, I thought I saw a Death Eater but it was a…a man in black clothing. He walked towards me and was talking in French and he reached out towards me and then he stopped and Apparated away silently and you came back. I don’t remember much else.”

“How do you know it was French? The words he was saying? How did you know it was French?” Her voice was calm but the underlying tone was still there, something more than the words she was saying. 

“I recognised what he said. ‘Vous ne mourrez pas ici aujourd’hui. Ce n’est pas la que tu meurs. Peut etre la petite mort.’” Her eyes snapped to his and he frowned as a smile curved her lips.

“You’re sure that was the words?” He nodded slowly and the smile grew wider. She grabbed his hand again and he knew to brace himself for the inevitable feeling of apparating, though where he wasn’t sure. He felt the squeeze, the tug, the movement and then he smelled an aroma he had hoped never to smell again. Dust and copper and sweat assaulted his nostrils and he pulled away from her hand flicking his eyes around.

“Why are we here? Why are we in this room?” He plunged his hands in his pockets but not before she saw his hands trembling.

“Severus, do you speak French?” At the slow shake of his head, she smiled softly and stepped towards him.

“You are not going to die here today. This is not where you will die. But maybe, a little death.” Hermione reached for his hand and moved until she was pressed against his body. He looked down at her and raised an eyebrow as she placed one hand on his chest and smiled up at him. She raised herself on her toes, their height difference a disadvantage he had never considered, and gently traced his lips with hers, a sweet soft kiss that ended too fast.

“There is another meaning of ‘la petite mort’ Severus. Would you like to know what it is?” Hermione smiled and he nodded slowly, his brain not quite awake again after she had shut down his thought processes with her sweet kiss. She slid her hands over his chest, hooking them behind his neck and tugging him towards her as her lips pressed against his again and she whispered a textbook answer that would have made him laugh if he had enough blood in his brain.

“It means an orgasm so good that the redirection of blood makes you faint for a moment. Some people say it isn’t even possible. What do you think Severus?” He slid his hands to her waist, pressing himself against her and moaned as she deepened the kiss. With a softly muttered oath against her lips, he lifted her, her legs sliding around his hips and pulling their cores into close proximity. She whimpered as he deepened the kiss and their cores came into contact. His legs were shaking and he knew he needed to move them to a more comfortable position.

He pulled away from the kiss, his eyes glassy, and looked at her; she was beautiful, her lips flushed and full, her eyes sparkling and staring at him. He looked away for a moment, trying to work out his best move and, with a smile, he walked her towards the wall, placing a light sticking charm in the centre of the back of her robes. She would have full movement; it was just to help him free his arms a little. She groaned softly as he bent his head, his lips connecting with hers as he tilted his hips against her. He unfastened the buttons on her robe, letting the fabric part so he could see what she wore underneath. Her plain white blouse and deep blue skirt should not have been sexy but on her, as he skin flushed and her breasts heaved and she panted in front of him, she was the sight of many a wet dream come true. He groaned as he looked at her, his cock full and hard between them as he bent his head to suckle on her neck. His hand slid under her skirt, tracing patterns on her thigh until he reached the lace top of her stockings. He groaned against her neck and she laughed breathily.

“Finally noticed me. Took you long enough.” He rolled his hips to press himself against her and she moaned huskily by his ear. His hands stroked higher over her thighs, the bare creamy skin warm under his chilled and nervous fingers. He found the edges of her underwear and she whimpered by his ear. All he wanted right now was to slide into her warm welcoming heat and pound into her as he reached his oblivion. But he knew, with how much he wanted this, how hard he was, how much pre-cum he could feel leaking, he needed to get her off first otherwise he would be finishing far too soon. With slightly unsteady fingers he traced his fingers over her briefs, feeling the wetness at the apex of her thighs and groaning as he bit down on her neck.

“Oh, fuck, Severus yes…” Her moans were music to his ears and he knew he was doing something right as her words devolved into babbling before he even touched her inside her underwear. His fingers slid underneath the fabric, already damp and slightly sticky with her juices and he slowly parted her lips, his fingers dipping just inside to touch her clitoris. He felt her body shudder and his eyes widened. He needed to watch her fall apart. He needed to hear her moans. He needed it desperately. He cast a silent spell, opening her blouse and bra with one move so that he would have full access to her body. He dipped his fingers inside her again at the same moment as he sucked one of her perfect rosy nipples into his mouth. Her hands flew to his head and pushed him into her chest in encouragement. His fingers slid deeper inside of her and he curled them slightly, rubbing against the front wall of her pussy and stroking the soft sponginess of her g-spot. She moaned loudly, her body shivering and rocking towards him. His thumb flickered over her clitoris and she moaned again, whimpering softly as he suckled her breast, crooked his fingers and rubbed her clit until she cried out below him, moaning and wailing her completion. She continued to cum hard, her body trembling and shaking under his hand as he vanished the placket of his trousers. His cock, stiff and proud, was finally free and, with just a moment to get her into the right position, he slid himself home, one single stroke deep inside her.

She was warm, wet, deep and oh so very tight. It was heaven being inside her and he both wanted to move and wanted to stay still to prolong this pleasure.

“Fuck me Severus. Fuck me hard. Take it slow next time.” Her words burned through his mind, his skin, and with a gasp he pulled back, thrusting into her as her walls clenched around him, her hands grasping at him, her hips rocking, his body sliding and slipping into her wetness. The old building creaked and echoed and groaned, her moans and cries reverberating through him as he felt the walls shaking underneath her. She whimpered, biting her lip, and he kissed her hard as he pistoned into her, pulling her lip from between her teeth. He pulled away, groaning as he pounded her pussy hard, the walls creaking and trembling.

“I want to hear you scream. I want to hear every moan Hermione. Otherwise there won’t be another time.” He was lying, dear Merlin, he was lying through his damn teeth. He hoped there would be a thousand more times. He wanted to fuck her in every alcove in the castle, on every surface in his rooms, even in Grimmauld Place at the interminable Order Christmas Party. Anywhere he could. He wanted to hear every noise she made. She nodded, throwing her head back and moaning as his angle changed slightly, his cock rubbing against her G-spot and his pelvis angled just so as he ground against her clit. He felt her clenching around his length and knew that she was close to another orgasm. He wanted her moans, her screams, her passion, her everything. He reached between them, his thumb rubbing her clit as he jackhammered into her, his lips finding her breast again, biting gently and flicking his tongue over her as she began to cry out, her noises wordless screams of passion as she squeezed around him and he felt himself begin to spill his seed inside her, moaning deep, growling her name as he bucked twice more, pumping her full of his cum. He lost concentration in that moment and felt her slip slightly from the Sticking charm he had placed on her back. He wrapped his arms under her and looked down at her, amused to see that she appeared to be passed out, still impaled on his cock. He wanted to laugh, for it was not his death that would come in the Shrieking Shack, but hers… La Petite Mort.

He cast a quick Tempus as she shifted slightly, dislodging his cock from her slick and sticky folds and his eyes widened. They had been half sitting, half lying on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, almost exactly where he had lain after the snake attack, for almost an hour. They would need to move soon and get back to the village, collect the students to walk them back to Hogwarts.

“Hermione? We need to move…we need to collect the dunderheads. But this…this isn’t over. I’d like to…do this again.” He had heard her scream, he had heard her moan, he had fucked her until she had passed out, and yet he was nervous that this was a one off for her.

“Definitely. We will definitely do this again Severus.” She lifted herself from his lap and cast a swift cleansing charm on him, followed by a charm that covered him as he stood up on slightly shaky legs. He centred himself, hiding behind his Occlumency shields for a few moments so he could get control of his mind and body. She smiled at him and he quirked his lips slightly, an almost half-smile that she acknowledged. She winked at him and then with a silent nod she Apparated away. He stared at where she had been standing and nodded to himself, Apparating to the outside of Hogsmeade. 

“Come on now, time to head back to Hogwarts.” He spotted her, herding the students his way and shifted his face into its’ customary scowl. Her eyes twinkled slightly and he almost missed the conversation two sixth years were having.

“…honestly, I swear, the Shrieking Shack has got worse since the end of the War. You should have heard it. The screams and moans that were coming from it…gave me the shivers I swear. It nearly seemed to be shaking…”


End file.
